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I feel so alone right here.
Separate from the exterior elements made up of molecular humans and
fragmented light waves that I don’t know the construct of and that I name
because I feel
Separate
Family love I turn away because fundamentally (really I mean deep down) (I
mean I feel something) I have turned my back,
I say I have spun around and replied that my vows are not core and that I
am. Placing me here where I am
alone.
By myself writing to myself because I can’t share self because I am too
busy looking for someone with that something that little girls dream of
that belongs in castles that I am too insecure in the self I preserve to
touch.
The fifth of my senses touch is
by itself:
sulking.
The little nerve endings feel the fabric of the couch I sleep on in lieu
of the bed I forfeited because of touch.
Touch that made me numb and sad and out of touch.
Touch that made me sick and mad and confused and now:
Alone.
Independent?
Maybe it’s arbitrary, because life is made up some what of cycles and the
next heart to feel may well be mine, but right now perhaps it would be
only for it to break to feel what it/I have caused.
Is it bitter or pretentious to think this cycle will hit me next?
Perhaps you will think that is what I hope for when you read this. That I
would revel in that pain and in my empathy that I may in turn feel
sympathy,
and that is what keeps us
separate.
Because when I sense that fleeting thought I cannot banish my fears that
you might be right and I hate you for my perceptions of your thought
process that you may not even be having and I wonder ‘when will I stop all
this analytical bullshit and accept you accepting me on the level that you
could have those thoughts and you, life, and I would all move on together
not dented?’
Dented!
The finger that held the ring of my promise to my ‘first husband’ is
dented. There is a curve all the way around accented by my ivory unsunned
skin beneath and my boss says it’s muscular atrophy.
I say it matches me and is all too real because I feel dented and human
and flung into the world headfirst when I had originally thought (just
last week) that I knew the world and some of it’s underlying esoteric
inner workings working around me and you and blood pumping, aerodynamic
creatures soaring, waters rushing, minerals drifting on the loose atoms of
wind changing direction all to the beat of the same drummer,
but now I do not know that it is me, and I feel so
Alone.
The word looks ridiculous and now strangely misspelled (though I admit
that my spelling can be bad...).
People that I see every day have their Lives and they take a snapshot
second and give it to me to tell me they like Me because I smile. Now I
haven’t smiled and I am angered at their concern and my (ex)husband’s smug
understanding and I am TIRED.
I am tired and I am so sad and caved in not just dented I am deflated and
I wonder how I made such a mistake and why I never see my own foolishness
and what will I have to learn ‘the hard way’ next?
I want to have sex that I’m not ready for that I don’t know if I’d be
steady for
That I’m not ready to be the sex kitten Betty for because I feel
Separated
from the normal interactive world of intimacy that I have always run from.
Unless it ran from me then I’d want to cage it until tamed when I would
then become disgusted and bored and so flippant and I’m sorry now because
it’s not right and I don’t want to feel sad and tired and
Alienated
anymore. I want to live in the world we tried to create where infinity
meant that an us was an entity and a pair of lovers in love for a
lifetime.
I want to live in the world that you really want and are ready for and
have begged me to stay in and dammit I’ve left because it’s not my world
and this lover has lost her love for her other and infinity has come
crashing down around my feet leaving me an
Island
in the Sea of Rubble connected to the Isle of Shame leading into the Bay
of peaceful peaceful Silence where I will one day take my introspect and
cradle it instead of holding it at arms length with one hand covering my
nose.
I will sail out of my revelry of misery into this bay of stillness and my
soul will rejuvenate and I predict the return of my ability to copulate
and will be happy to return to the babble of live waters, I will find a
new half to make me whole (maybe the myself I can love) and I will be
complete and no longer so fucking
Alone.
(Then again I’m really naturally a happy person, no matter how crazy these
words look to you written out loud, you’ll remember that I told you once:
Inside I feel happy. Somewhere somewhat somehow happy and someone will
someday see it and if it is you remember when you smile at me how nice it
makes that part of me feel.)
© 2004 by Mary Elizabeth Otte
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